Heart of Slytherin
by kaptainkong
Summary: On that Halloween many years ago, Harry's grandparents sacrificed themselves to save the Potter siblings from the wrath of Voldemort, bringing about peace in the process. James and Lily take up the roles of parents, but James hardly has time for either Potter child. Follow Harry as the battle against Lord Voldemort starts up again. Probably HPFD Definitely Slytherin Harry
1. First Steps

HP belongs to JK Rowling.

 _A/N: This is how dialogue works:_

Normal English

 _Any other normal language/emphasis/titles/other stuff/just look at the context_

 **Parseltongue**

 _Other than that: just enjoy, R &R if you'd like, first fanfic and probably only story-telling other than in school so if it's a little rough to read, sorry about that. Without further ado…_

 _Edit: Just cleaned the first chapter up a bit_

 **The Heart of Slytherin**

Chapter 1

First Steps

Gripping his broomstick with his hands, he could feel his own handprints worn into the oak from hours of use. Peering through his glasses, he took note of every branch and knob in his way. His hair flowing in the breeze, he took it up a notch when he finally recognized a way out and pushed the broom down to shoot through the gap and out of the massive forest that blanketed the outskirts of Godric's Hollow.

Harry had gotten his first broomstick when he was seven. He was also seven when James Potter became Head Auror at the Ministry of Magic. From that point on, his father would never have enough time to play with Harry or Dylan like a real father would. As if to compensate, his mother quit her job as Potions Brewer at St. Mungo's to stay at home with them. A lot of the time, she took them to see the Weasleys, who had kids of their own at Harry and Dylan's age. Oftentimes, Harry would enviously watch their father take days off from working at the Ministry to have fun with them.

Sweeping his legs off his Cleansweep Five, he made his way into the broom shed on the side of the house. Carefully placing his broom on the side of the shed that wasn't so dusty and dirty, he propped it up and covered it with a long piece of cloth that would keep his broom from collecting dust. His broom would have to be left here for nearly four months while he went off to Hogwarts. Who knew they had a stupid rule saying first years couldn't have brooms? He certainly didn't.

Sighing, he made his way to the front of the house, making sure that his shoes were off before he stepped foot on the glossy hardwood flooring of the house. His mother would go ballistic if he so much as touched the tip of his dirty shoe to the floor. The smell of dinner wafted through the house, luring him to the kitchen. His mother had her back to him when he first entered the room, but when he came to peek around her arm at what she was making – bangers and mash – she turned around and gave him a lookover. Her green eyes flashed as they passed over his sticky and sweaty clothes and his crazy-looking hair. "Harry dear. Go wash up. Supper will be ready soon."

Harry looked up at his mother, who guessed his thoughts before he could voice them. Shaking her head, Lily Potter left the wooden spatula she was using on the counter and hugged him. "No. Your father won't be home until very late today."

Harry could only blink away small tears that had appeared in his eyes as he stood there in her embrace. When she moved away, he dipped his head and exited the kitchen. As he went up the stairs, the small hope that had sparked inside his heart grew: that his father would be home soon. But he knew that his hope was futile.

When Harry came back down for supper, he was unsurprised to find three sets of silverware laid out. There was no sign of his father as he took his seat at the table. Dylan was too busy stuffing his mouth (like that tiny Weasley boy) to give him any form of greeting. His mother was eating in silence, eyes glued to a book he recognized to be part of a popular Wizarding novel series. Sighing, he turned his attention to his own food, feeling heartbroken for the umpteenth time. The ticking of the clock on the wall was the only sound to be heard as Harry pushed his food around with a fork. Finally, with one last glance at his father's designated seat, he pushed himself up leaving his half-eaten dinner and the tranquil atmosphere of the table.

While he made his way to the stairs, Lily Potter's worried eyes followed her eldest son.

The next morning, Harry sat on top of his trunk, waiting for his mother to get the car ready. His father had left very early in the morning to deal with a massive outbreak of Dark Artifacts that he'd informed them about in a note stuck to the kitchen table. True to his word, the Daily Prophet came with the headline: _Dark Artifacts Use (or Misuse) Plagues Nation_. Once again, his father was off working, but this time stung the most. Today was the day Harry would enter Hogwarts.

When his mother had finally fired up the old Vauxhall Cavalier that sat at the back of their yard, he climbed in with his trunk and they set out for London. The three hour long drive from West England to the heart of London was the most boring drive Harry had ever gone through. He almost wished that they could travel by Floo to King's Cross Station, but his mother had already told him that Floo traffic today would be at one of the year's highest, making Floo a rather impractical way of getting to London on this particular day. The only good that came out of a three hour long drive was the thick silence that reigned in the car allowing Harry to look out the window at the scenes that passed them by and once again brood heavily upon his father.

When they finally arrived at King's Cross and his mother had parked securely in a spot among the Muggle parking, Harry lifted his heavy trunk out of the car and followed his mother into the station. Grabbing a trolley and placing his trunk upon it, he massaged his hands, thanking Merlin that he had been relieved of his burden. As they made their way towards Platform 9 and 10, they started seeing more and more people wearing robes and eccentric outfits that Harry knew came from the Wizarding world. From among the masses, owls hooted so loudly that Harry wondered whether the guards at the station were under hypnosis so that the mass gathering of "owl owners" every year didn't surprise them. Of course, given the fact that there were lots of children, it could also be mistaken for a school for owl (or bird?) trainers. Or maybe even a cult based on owls that made their children partake in owl magic. Whatever Muggles thought of the absurd amount of people wearing "ridiculous clothing," none of them stopped to stare as they hurried about making it onto the trains that came in and out of King's Cross. His mother led him between Platforms 9 and 10 and gestured him towards a wall that he had seen numerous other wizards go through earlier. With a grimace, he ran towards the wall with his trolley, trying not to imagine what would happen if it wasn't magically enchanted to be a doorway and instead was just a wall.

Going through the doorway, he looked up to see the red and black of the Hogwarts Express. Milling all around the platform were wizards and witches and their children, some of whom Harry knew would be attending Hogwarts with him for the next seven years. As he pushed his trolley to the front of the crowd, he felt his mother's hand cover his on the handles of the cart. Looking up at her, he was astonished to see tears starting to well up in her eyes, which caused him to start to feel the same sense of loss that she was no doubt going through. With the same kind of tears starting to come out of his own eyes, he hugged her, feeling her hand caress the top of his head. Moments later, he heard his mother's voice in his ear. "I'll always love you. Always remember that."

Pulling his head out of the folds of her dress, Harry looked up into his mother's eyes. "Do your best, make great friends, and write me every week, okay?"

Nodding, he gave her another hug and waved goodbye as he picked up his trunk and made his way onto the train. Climbing up the stairs, he looked up and down the hallway, trying to decide on a compartment to sit in. Deciding he liked the back of the train more, he trudged down the hallway. At the very back, he was pleased to find an empty compartment. Placing his trunk on the top of the rack, he settled himself into a seat next to the giant window on the side of the compartment, trying not to think about leaving his family and going to a school just to learn magic. He loved his family a lot. Even if his father was gone most of the time and his brother was constantly messing around with the toy soldiers that his mother had gotten him from the Muggle world, he loved them all very much. Why couldn't he just learn magic at home? It was while his mind was following this track that he fell into a deep sleep.

The sound of the compartment door sliding open woke him up. As he fluttered his eyes open, he saw a girl around his age creep into his compartment. When she noticed his eyes staring at her, she blushed and almost hid her face under her bronze colored hair in embarrassment. Despite this, she slid into the seat across from him. Harry realized quickly that he would have to introduce himself. Sticking his hand out towards the girl, he inclined his head and said, "Hi, I'm Harry. What's your name?"

What he wasn't anticipating was hearing another, more panicked voice speak at the same time. Confused, he looked at the girl in front of him, who once again had gone red. Gesturing with his hand, he smiled and motioned for her to go first. If Harry hadn't been watching her face get even redder upon seeing his smile was just listening, he would've heard her even squeakier voice belie her embarrassment. "Hello! I'm Jessica!"

Jessica bowed her head a bit to hide her rosy cheeks while Harry watched her in amusement. Extending his hand in greeting once again, he introduced himself again. "Hi, I'm Harry. So, is today going to be your first day at Hogwarts?"

She nodded animatedly, affirming his suspicion that she was his age. The way she nodded her head like a squirrel made him grin a little more. "Great, me, too. It's super relieving to meet someone who's also going to be a first year. So, what House do you want to get into?"

Harry watched her amber eyes turn towards his and then look away almost immediately, to Harry's confusion. "Ravenclaw."

Much of the rest of the train ride was spent in silence as Jessica kept stealing glances at Harry and never looking at him again. Through the minute amounts of conversation, Harry found out her last name was Fawles, one of the many pureblood families that were named as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Even as Harry thought this to himself, he noted she was sort of shy and barely talked the rest of the way. When night had fallen outside the window and the conductor appeared on the loudspeakers to tell them they were approaching Hogsmeade station, Jessica hurriedly excused herself and left the compartment to go change into her robes. Harry grinned to himself while he changed into his robes. At the very least, he knew someone else who was going to be at Hogwarts.

When he had finished adjusting his robes, he left his trunk sitting on the rack. His mother had told him that house elves took their luggage up to the castle to save children the trouble of carrying their trunks for the couple of miles of distance between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. Stepping onto the station, he heard a gruff voice call out in the distance: "Firs' years! Firs' years! O'er here!"

Following the noise, he made his way over to a giant person with hair everywhere on his face. In fact, Harry could barely see eyes under all the hair. Around the large man was a crowd of kids that Harry guessed were all around his age. Out of the many people there, he could faintly pick out Jessica's bronze hair and the twin heads of red hair that the Weasley family had. They stood there waiting for a while as the giant man counted them up. When the giant had finished counting them up and had made sure all the first years were there, he introduced himself to the first years, his gruff voice coming out from underneath the beard once again. "Me name's Hagrid. Gameskeeper an' Keeper of the Keys here at Hogwarts. Follow me!"

Turning, the giant led them down the station and down a path. Harry couldn't but notice that all the older kids had gone the other way off the station but kept quiet. Perhaps there were some first year things they had to do before they got to the castle. When they arrived at the docks, Harry was stunned to see a large fleet of boats each the size of a small raft tied in a row. Looking at the dark water apprehensively, he wondered if there was some kind of giant monster in the lake that wanted to eat first years.

Despite his fears, he followed the giant's orders ("Four to a boat, min' yeh!") and got into a boat with three other boys. One of them had almost the same shade of bronze hair that Jessica had, but the boy had a different facial structure that convinced Harry that they weren't related at all. Harry found out that his name was Cedric Diggory, a surname he recognized to be of a man from the newspapers as the Associate Head of the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, which Harry assumed was his father. A boy with hair so blonde that it was almost white and eyebrows the same color was introduced as Luke Carrey. Harry instantly took a liking to this boy for he seemed really nice and courteous. The last boy sitting in their boat was one Stephen Davies, whose older brother was to be a second-year Ravenclaw and had told him a bunch of stories about Hogwarts. Stephen proceeded to tell the three boys about the kind giant squid that lived at the bottom of the lake and how his brother had fed it bread once. While Harry tuned out the rest of Stephen's stories, he watched the lights projecting off the large castle that was Hogwarts dance on the top of the water. It made Harry feel like it was like a tour to make the first years love it, but he had to admit that the light show was perhaps the most beautiful thing he'd seen so far.

As they reached the docks on the other side, the four climbed out of their boat and joined the other first years and Hagrid up a path to the castle. Hagrid led them on the path across a river gorge that sat on one side of the castle and into a courtyard filled with large, arching trees and beautiful green grass surrounded on all sides by huge towers and hallways. At the far end of the courtyard was a pair of ornate wooden doors covered with magnificent designs. The designs themselves depicted huge dragons and phoenixes and all sorts of magic creatures and had metal bolts bolted in that seamlessly fit and complemented each creature. In the back of his mind, Harry thought the architecture and art that composed Hogwarts was perhaps the greatest masterpiece he had seen. Hagrid opened the giant doors into the towering castle above them and revealed an interior of marbled stone. Harry looked curiously behind them. Another set of large doors were withdrawn inside the walls surrounding the doorway, which Harry presumed to be a thicker kind of door that they only used when in danger. Anyone caught in between the sliding doors was sure to be pierced by the spikes that lined that side of the doors.

When the group had finally made their way up several flights of stairs illuminated by torches on the walls, they came to a stop at the top of a staircase. Standing in front of another set of ornate doors was a very stern-looking woman with emerald green robes and a witch's hat. Hagrid beckoned them to stay there as he bowed to the lady, pulled the doors open, and slipped into the room behind.

Looking down her glasses at them, the woman said, "Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is very important because, while you are here, your House will be your family. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in dorms with them, and spend free time in your House's common room." Before she continued, her gaze swept across their faces. "The four Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While you are Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you House points, while any rule-breaking will take them away. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup."

She let her words carry a bit as the first years looked up at her. On the other side of the crowd, Harry could hear the twins consorting with each other. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I will return when we are ready for you."

With that, Professor McGonagall turned and left them standing at the top of the stairs. Almost immediately, people broke out in nervous shivers. It seemed that the twin Weasleys had spread the word around to most of the first years that giant dragons awaited them. Harry glanced around at the other three boys he'd ridden a boat with. Out of the three of them, only Luke looked slightly nervous. Under Harry's questioning gaze, Luke spluttered out, "I don't want to disappoint my parents. If I made it into Hufflepuff…" His thumb jerked, making a line across his throat.

Cedric spoke soothingly, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure they aren't that against Hufflepuff."

Stephen and Harry nodded along as Luke visibly calmed a little.

Suddenly, the doors banged open and the first years walked down the path into the room that lay behind the doors. Harry was amazed to see a giant room that seemed to stand hundreds of feet into the air. The ceiling looked like it was enchanted to look like it was the nighttime outside. Hundreds of candles floated in the air above four long wooden tables that ran the length of the Hall. Students dotted each of the four tables, watching the first years proceed down the length of the Hall. Harry watched Stephen wave at a person he presumed to be Stephen's brother Roger sitting in the middle of the table to the far right, making that one the Ravenclaws' table. The table next to the Ravenclaws had a couple people Harry recognized to be of the Weasley family, making it the Gryffindors' table. Harry thought that the last two must be Hufflepuff and Slytherin, in that order.

At the very front of the room was a long table that seated many people Harry knew to be teachers due to their age. In the middle was an old man with twinkling blue eyes under a pair of spectacles and a long whiskery beard that Harry knew to be Albus Dumbledore. In front of Dumbledore, a stool sat on a raised platform, covered by a dinky and old hat. Professor McGonagall led them to the very front, allowing them to spread out in front of the tables. The first years settled there, wondering what was to happen. All of a sudden, the hat sitting on the stool moved. Two creases formed its eyes and two more formed a mouth as it seemed to look out at everyone. And, just as surprisingly, it started singing. Harry was too indisposed with amazement to pay attention to the song, but he heard small allusions to the Houses.

Soon, the Sorting Hat's song came to a close. All the students behind the first-years exploded into applause, so Harry followed suit. The Sorting Hat was really interesting. Harry was about to wonder how the Hat was enchanted to do all this when Professor McGonagall stepped to the front. In her hands was a long roll of parchment. Adjusting her glasses, she peered down her nose at the first years and said, "When I call your name, you will put on the Hat and sit on the stool to be Sorted."

Professor McGonagall looked down at her list, and the Sorting began. "Bletchley, Miles!"

Harry watched as the brown-haired Miles Blecthley sat down upon the stool and the Sorting Hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table exploded in cheers as every other House clapped politely. Soon after, "Carrey, Luke!" was called and Luke made his way up towards the front and sat down under the hat. Only to be sorted into Hufflepuff. Harry watched Luke's face turn into one of horror and couldn't help but feel sadness. Harry knew that he wouldn't end up in Hufflepuff. No Potter had gone anywhere but Gryffindor and Harry seemed destined to go there. When Stephen was sorted into Gryffindor, he felt a bit better knowing that the bright kid was waiting for him there. But when Cedric was sorted into Hufflepuff, he felt torn. Cedric was a very well mannered boy who seemed smart and full of empathy. When Jessica was sorted a couple people later into Ravenclaw, he felt even more so. Although she had been a blushing and nervous mess earlier, he had decided that she would be a good friend to have. He really wanted to be in a House with one of the nice people he'd met today, but he couldn't decide which. He wondered idly whether the Sorting Hat could be bribed. Or manipulated in any way to make him go somewhere that was agreeable to him. Even if he seemed destined for Gryffindor, Hufflepuff with Cedric and Luke seemed like a good idea. Ravenclaw with the blushing Jessica was always a great option.

As his name approached, he racked his brain for a way to get the Hat to sort him into one of either Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. As "Oades, Sharon!" sat under the Sorting Hat and was sorted into Ravenclaw, Harry finally got it: somehow make a deal with the hat and pray it doesn't turn out to be a deal with the devil.

Professor McGonagall called out, "Potter, Harry!"

Almost instantly, any cheering that had been for Sharon Oades had disappeared as Harry strode up the steps. Wondering why everyone had gone so quiet and the Headmaster's twinkling blue eyes were twinkling even more while looking at him, Harry sat down shakily on the stool and felt Professor McGonagall drop the old Hat on top of his head. Suddenly, he felt a voice appear at the back of his head.

 _Another Potter, huh? Difficult, though, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh yes. Ambition, indeed. So qualified for each and every House. What to do with you?_

Harry thought hard to the Hat, Mr. Sorting Hat, _I have a proposal to make._

The Hat seemed surprised given that it didn't speak for a couple seconds. Then it laughed. _Hahaha! So funny! That's a new one, my boy. First time anyone's ever said that to me. In my 988 years of existence, I've never heard a first year say that to me. Tell me, what is this proposal of yours._

Harry found the Hat to be very accommodating now that he had amused the old thing. _Place me in Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor. I know I belong there._

If the Hat were a person, Harry could almost certainly imagine the Hat with its eyebrows raised. _And, what would you give me?_

Harry thought long and hard before telling the Hat, _I will give you a scrub so great that you will look almost exactly like you did 988 years ago. Shiny. New. Great again._

The Hat laughed again. _Hahaha! I like your bargain, kid._

Harry felt hope rise in him as he anticipated the Hat to yell out one of the three Houses – Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor – to the Great Hall.

Instead, he felt the Hat open its mouth and heard it bellow, "SLYTHERIN!"

Harry's face instantly turned into one of shock as he heard the Hat telepathically say something. _Unfortunately for you, I don't mind being a dinky, old hat. And besides, it is where you belong, Heart of Slytherin._

 _First chapter done! Thanks for reading! Hopefully, you'll R &R and keep reading! Feedback is appreciated! If you're wondering where this is going, I am, too. Kaptain out!_

 _Kaptain out!_


	2. Not So Bad After All

Once again, JK Rowling owns the HP franchise.

 _A/N: This is how dialogue works:_

Normal English

 _Any other normal language/emphasis/titles/other stuff/just look at the context_

 **Parseltongue**

 **Heart of Slytherin**

Chapter 2

Not So Bad After All

Harry was so shocked that he barely registered the parting words that the Hat gave him before it was lifted off his head. Almost every face he saw in the audience was either in shock or surprise. The only face that he saw that wasn't in a state of disbelief was a boy who Harry recognized to be a first year who'd been sorted earlier into Hufflepuff named Mitch Brown. Looking at his seething face, Harry felt a little scared. Why was he so mad at Harry? Turning to look at Dumbledore, he was surprised to see the blue eyes twinkling even brighter. At the left end of the Head Table, he saw a somewhat familiar face contorted and twisted in anger, even more so than Mitch Brown's. Not being able to recall where he had seen the man before, he slunk off his seat and tried to calm his jittery body as he made his way over to the Slytherin table.

All eyes in the Hall seemed to follow him even as Professor McGonagall tried to get everyone's attention by calling out, "Pucey, Adrian!" Harry ducked and tried to flee their lines of sight, slipping into a seat next to a boy with brown, tousled hair who Harry recognized to have been sorted just a couple people before him. While Harry couldn't quite place a name to him, the boy gave him a small, apprehensive look that Harry couldn't quite understand. By now, many people had redirected their attention the front of the Hall, so Harry relaxed a little without massive amounts of attention heaped onto him. Why everyone liked to look at him he had no clue, but he pushed any questions forming in his mind away and concentrated on the rest of the Sorting, clapping when a fellow first-year was sorted. The boy after him, whose name Harry had forgotten in the short span of a couple seconds, was also sorted into Slytherin, giving a small "eep" when he saw Harry and quickly plopped himself down next to him. The rest of the Sorting went without a hitch, as no one else received the same treatment Harry had received.

After the twin Weasleys had gotten sorted into Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall waved her wand and Vanished the stool and whisked the Sorting Hat away. Dumbledore took this chance to stand up and address the large congregation of students, "I'd imagine you are all quite hungry, so let us not dally any longer. Tuck in!"

Without a moment's delay, food appeared in large quantities all along the table. The sound of hundreds of knives and forks being used mixed with the noisy babble that seemed to erupt throughout the Hall. Harry was busy deciding which food he could get when a voice next to him spoke up. "So, you're Harry Potter, right?"

Turning, he saw that the boy that had been sorted directly after him was smiling brightly. Wondering what in Merlin's name was going on, Harry answered, "Yeah. Why?"

The boy's smile widened. "You wouldn't happen to be related to James Potter, would you?"

Harry frowned. Although his father was Head Auror, it didn't explain why this boy wanted to know why Harry was related to him. I mean, sure, his father was Head Auror and someone important. But why? "Again, yeah. Why?"

The white smile widened even further, if that was even possible. Harry was surprised to see that the boy's eyes were shining. "Sweet Merlin! That's awesome! I'm sitting right next to Quidditch royalty!"

Surprised, Harry blinked his eyes. "What?"

The boy eagerly responded, "My father said that James Potter was perhaps the greatest Quidditch player in all of Hogwarts history! Said that he could've played professionally!"

Harry knew his father had been a good Quidditch player, but he hadn't thought he was that good. After all, his father almost never mentioned the game, which was odd, given that Harry had just found out his father was good enough to play professionally. Harry shook his head to clear the thoughts from his head and looked back up at the boy. "So, who're you?"

The boy grinned again. "I'm Adrian Pucey. Nice to meet you!"

Adrian was a nice kid. A bit odd though. Adrian was a really big Quidditchhead. He proudly told Harry he had an extensive collection of Puddlemere United jerseys that dated back to the 1940's. Harry listened along as Adrian talked about the many Quidditch games he'd been to with his father. As Harry listened, however, he was constantly reminded that his father had never spent even a fraction of that much time with him. Every time Adrian talked about his father, Harry found himself shoving his heart down into his stomach and placing a mask on his face.

As dinner wore on, Harry noticed that people down the table were giving him some hesitant glances. Just as Adrian was about to start talking about the one time he'd met Gwenog Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, he felt the brown-haired boy next to him tap his shoulder. Harry turned his head to see that the boy had the same hesitant look in his eyes. Behind him, many people were openly staring at the two of them. The boy's eyes shifted around as he asked, "So, umm," the boy casted a nervous glance at all the people watching, "mind telling us what the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived is doing in Slytherin?"

Harry had never been so confused in his life. The Boy-Who-Lived? What was that? Who was that? His brother? Before the confusion could show on his face, however, Harry told himself that they were probably just trying to confuse him. Letting his mouth twist into a smile, he said, "I was Sorted here, of course."

The joke seemed to be continuing as the boy asked, "But why, though?"

Harry shrugged, not interested in letting this joke he was supposed to understand continue. "The Sorting Hat put me here. Ask the Hat."

The same apprehensive look from earlier appeared on his face, and, out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see that a lot of the people seemed to have found his answer acceptable and had turned away. Perhaps it was some test to see if the more questionable Slytherins could fit in the House. As attention receded and the joke seemed to end, Harry leaned forward and whispered, "What's the Boy-Who-Lived? You had me confused there for a second."

Curiosity and confusion clashed on his face as he watched the other boy suddenly lean back, wide-eyed. Before Harry could ask what was going on, the boy, had leaned forward closer to Harry. The surprised look had morphed into one that Harry thought looked a bit like grim understanding. The boy glanced around first before he spoke. "I'll tell you later. But, if anyone says anything about your brother, just go along with what they're saying."

Harry nodded dumbly, not knowing why the boy needed to tell him later. It was just a joke after all. Right? Surely the "Boy-Who-Lived" wasn't something real that Harry just didn't know about. As Harry sorted through what the boy had said, the boy in question turned around and continued his previous conversation with some older Slytherins. Taking this as his cue, Harry turned back around to find that Adrian was still waiting to tell him about Gwenog Jones. As Harry tried not to appear disinterested, his mind swirled, filled with not only thoughts of his father but also millions of questions all centering around one thing: this Boy-Who-Lived thing.

After dessert was served and Harry had carved a big chunk through his treacle tart, Harry was still thinking about the Boy-Who-Lived thing when he noticed the teacher that had seemed so familiar earlier staring intently at him. Gesturing up at the man sitting at the Head Table, Harry asked, "Who's he?"

The man seemed to know that Harry was asking Adrian about him and looked away as Adrian followed his line of sight. "That's Professor Snape. Dad introduced me to him once. Said he was one of the most gifted Potion Masters to ever come from Britain."

Harry still couldn't put his finger on it. He'd remembered the professor from way back when, but any memories eluded his search. "So, he's Potions Professor, then?"

Adrian nodded. "And our Head of House."

Head of House? Harry tried to imagine his first interaction with the professor. _Hello Professor, I'm in your House and I'm excited to be learning from you this year. Just a question, who are you, exactly? You seem familiar…_

Harry shook his head as his half-eaten treacle tart suddenly vanished off his plate. He glanced up to see that Dumbledore was now standing up and waiting for everyone's attention. When the Hall descended into silence and the spectacled man was being given Harry's undivided attention, he spoke. "It's very late, I'm afraid. I'm sure that everyone is tired – " As Dumbledore said this, Harry realized he was indeed very tired and eager to crawl into bed and sleep, " – so I won't keep you much longer. Now, before you go to sleep, keep these words in mind: Blibberwacket! Kerbles! Tiller! Thank you."

Harry couldn't help but think that Dumbledore was mad as the Slytherins got up and made for the door. On his way out, he caught sight of an older Slytherin with a gleaming Prefect's badge perched upon his chest waving his arms over the bustling crowd and shouting, "First years, here!"

As the first-year Slytherins flocked to gather around the Prefect, Harry caught sight of Cedric before the other boy disappeared from the Hall. Sighing, Harry looked up at the ceiling. What would his father say, when he told him he'd gotten into Slytherin? Hopefully he wouldn't gut him in front of the entire school with a Howler.

Harry absentmindedly followed the rest of the Slytherin first-years out of the Hall and down several staircases and down a rather corridor. Another ornate door, much like the one that let them into Hogwarts, loomed up ahead. As they came to a stop in front of the door, the Prefect said, "Salazar."

Immediately, the door began to cave inwards, and the procession continued. Inside was an oddly lit room with green and silver colors and snake designs all over the tapestries and furniture. The windows were foggy, almost opaque, so much that Harry couldn't see through them. Fire crackled within the fireplace at the back of the room, on the wall farthest from the entrance. The Prefect turned around and said, "Boys' dormitories on the right, girls' on the left. Look for your name: your things should already be inside."

Harry and Adrian went to the right with three other first year boys, where they soon found their names posted next to a door. One of the other boys – a sort-of blond one – peeked inside, letting them all see five four-poster beds spread in a half-circle.

Harry found his things next to the left-most bed. In the bed next to him was Adrian. Flopping down on his bed, Harry rummaged through his stuff, looking for pictures of his family that he really wanted to put up on his desk. Hands stopping on a picture of him and his father, he watched the two figures in the photo blink awkwardly up at him. Behind him, he could hear Adrian hitting it off with two of the other boys – whose names were Miles Bletchley and Cassius Warrington. Harry felt kind of guilty for eavesdropping on their conversation about Quidditch and classes and the House of Slytherin in general, but found no heart to join in on their conversation as he fingered the photograph in his hand of him and his father.

"Potter."

Turning, he found the brown-haired boy standing behind him. Curious about what this was all about, Harry made eye contact with the boy as he stood up, picture still in his hand. The boy gave a slight head tilt down. Harry's eyes followed the gesture and he noticed that the boy's hand was stretched out in front of him in greeting.

"Nice to meet you. Name's Montague. Graham Montague."

Harry felt sort of uncertain, but decided to take the hand anyways. "Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you too. Though you have to let me in on this Boy-Who-Lived joke."

Graham seemed really hesitant to follow up on his promise to fill Harry in on the Boy-Who-Lived, something Harry didn't understand. Why? Why couldn't he just spit it out? Was there something wrong with it? Graham holding it back seemed to make Harry want the truth even more. "Tell me. Now."

Graham glanced at the other boys, who were still immersed in their conversation. Silently, he grabbed Harry's hand and led him out the dormitory door and down into the Common Room. A small group of sixth-years hung out in a corner, laughing and giggling as they joked and talked about Merlin knows what. Graham continued to lead Harry. Sitting down on a small couch in the corner opposite the sixth-years, Harry noticed that Graham's eyes were steely and grim-looking as he asked, "So, why are we out here? What's up with this Boy-Who-Lived that we can't even talk about inside the dorm?"

Graham sighed. "Because, to us Slytherins, the Boy-Who-Lived is perhaps the most dangerous wizard of all time."

 _As usual, R &R._

 _I know that tons of fics have Harry going to Slytherin, but don't judge me too harshly. Please?_

 _Kaptain out!_


End file.
